Pinwheels

Pinwheels make me think of Avery. When the breeze picks up and they begin to spin, catching colors from the sky, reflecting the sun, the colors of the garden, the fading tulips and the lilacs just in bloom, I remember Avery when he was 2. He could watch a pinwheel for hours, but of course the wind never lasted that long. Avery is my second son, a fraternal twin, and at 5 days old, he was diagnosed with Down syndrome.

Avery is almost 4, now. In the summers, he helps me gather raspberries from the bushes around the garden gate, careful not to touch the thorns or squish the fruit. We cook up a steaming pot of jam together, which I ladle into jars. The jam cools and the jars go into the freezer where they wait for us, full of the surprising goodness of summer. Avery is my summer boy, my Sunday’s child, and my life with him is full of grace.